Nurse Ivy enters my bedroom. “What are you making, Marisol?”
“Christmas lanterns.”
She rolls her eyes. “Christmas is in December and we’re only in March.”
I curl my lips and glue the remaining strip. “This one’s for you.” I hand it to her.
Her cocky frown turns into a smile. “Oh, thank you.”
People think I’m crazy because in the past eighteen years, I’ve had to associate with someone who sneezes all day, a lady who curses and screams each time, and a man who whispers and shakes his head while talking to himself. There are so much more people I have to deal with, but all this time in the institution made me realize how working with my hands has kept me sane.
Although my eyesight is failing me, and my hands are exhausted and frail, I never cease to do what I love doing best. Creative expression is the best form of art. My hands have kept me busy, my mouth not so much, but my gnawing thoughts scream from left to right. I will die soon.
“You have a visitor.”
Bile crawls up my throat. This can’t be. No! I know the time has come. I’ve anticipated for this moment. I never wanted to see her. Not now, not ever. Her father is a monster and so is she.
Heading back to memory lane . . . Before I gave birth, I continued to work long hours at the factory.
“You need to slow down,” Leticia had said eyeing my stomach.
The callous in my hands had darkened from toiling away but there was no holding back for me. I hated what was growing inside me as much as I despised the man who raped me. My mother had given me cold stares and the servants in the house walked in egg shells around me. After what happened, life went back to normal for Isabel and Carlos who eventually got married. Not for me. I was not invited to the wedding, nor did I dare step inside the mansion. Ricardo left for America a week after the wedding. Doña Maria had kept me as a weaver because she needed me, but she was the only one who had the courage to tell me that I was no longer welcome at the mansion and was a disgrace to them.
My mother and I were transferred to a room beside the factory, but not once did she ask me about what happened. She was never good at communicating with me. Her cold stares only told me how disappointed she was.
Leticia was the only one who showed deep compassion. “I know you didn’t seduce Carlos, Marisol.” She had grasped my hand tight and for that moment, I wished she was my mother.
We had worked side by side all this time, and even when I received a promotion with my team of weavers, not once did Leticia turn her back at me. Loyalty flowed in her veins.
“Time will tell and the truth will come out,” she continued. “As I mentioned before, we will never be like them.”
I hated myself for not fighting for my rights. I hated my mother, the other servants, Doña Maria and Isabel for not believing me. I hated Ricardo for leaving when I needed him the most.
My whole life was over and I felt motionless except for the devil growing inside me. I hated the kicks and all the hunger and nausea I felt. I never gave in to my cravings and although my clothes were tighter, I hardly ate. I thought if I could starve this baby to death then I can forget whatever happened that night. I only did what I knew best. To weave. I wove to express my deepest sorrows. Weaving saved my life.
It was only until Leticia asked me a question that made me realize what I needed to do.
“What are your plans, Marisol?”
“Plans?” I looked at myself at the mirror. Gone was the youthful cheerful girl. I had aged and my belly was popping out.
“You need to plan your life. It will be two of you. Your baby needs you.”
I cringed. There was no way I’m going to be taking care of this baby. No way! I needed to get this monster out of me.
I bolted up right and ran, ran until I passed the ranch and raised my way up to the mansion which was off limits to me. There was no holding back. I made my way to the kitchen pulled out a knife and dashed to the verandah where Doña Maria was taking her morning coffee. To my surprise, Isabel and Carlos were both having breakfast with her.
Even better. I hid the knife behind me.
The three of them froze while Isabel had her eyes glued on my belly.
“Marisol, what are you doing here?” Doña Maria set her cup on the table.
“It’s been eight months and I’ve not said a word to all of you. I have put up with all your judgment, but enough is enough, it’s time I tell the truth.”
Carlos glared at me. “Don’t believe anything she says, she’s a liar.”
“Really? I’m a liar!” Heat permeated in my body as the rage unfolded within. Carlos raped me while his friends watched,” I blurted out, “and because of you, this monster has taken over my body. I will not allow this devil to live.” With that said, I stabbed my belly with a knife and yelled as the blood oozed out.
“Dios mio,” Doña Maria rushed to me while Carlos immediately grabbed the knife.
Isabel had burst into tears. “Help.”
My vision grew blurry and everything turned black. I woke up forty eight hours later at the Holy Angels mental asylum where I overheard the nurses saying I tried to kill my daughter. That means I gave birth to a girl.
I wasn’t successful in killing my daughter, but I know one day she will look for me. Today is the day. She has to know the truth.
The nurse intrudes my thoughts with a knock. “He’s here to see you.”
He?
His face meets mine. Ricardo. . . Although my eyesight fails me, there he is still charming as I remember him to be. A wave of emotions crashes upon me. I can’t contain myself, so I reach out to him in a tight embrace.
“Marisol,” he whispers as I lean my head on his chest listening to the beats of his heart remembering how he sent jitters down my spine.
How long has it been? Tears trickle down my cheeks. All this time, I had wished for him to come to my rescue. I still can’t believe he’s here and I’m finding difficulty choosing the right words to say. He probably thinks I’m some lunatic who tried to kill her baby. If Ricardo only knew, he would understand the pain that has tormented me all these years. I hate myself for being a coward, for not fighting for my rights. Everyone had abandoned me. I was left in this place with strangers dealing with their own demons. Their abnormal became my normal and this institution became my home―my sanctuary.
He strokes my hair and tucks a strand behind my ear. “I’m sorry for not being there for you.”
I lean my head back and gaze into his eyes. They spell gentleness which reminds me of how safe I used to feel. I swallow hard. “Why are you here?”
“Where do I begin?” He takes my hand and escorts me to the sofa.
We both take our seat like two old friends. He tells me about his life in America and I discover he never got married.
It’s been so long since I last smiled and sitting here beside Ricardo only reminds me of the simple things we did during our childhood and how happy he made me feel.
After I tried to kill my baby, I attempted to kill myself three times without success. I tried to strangle myself, slash my wrists and pop pills which I stole in the nursing station while the nurse went to the bathroom. They labeled me as schizophrenic and laughed at me while I walked down the hallway. What they failed to realize is how nobody should have to endure rape. The humiliation and shame has haunted me for years. That baby was only a reminder of what Carlos had done to me. I don’t know how my life would have turned out if I raised her. She was better off without a crazy mother like me.
“You’re not a bad person, Marisol,” he says.
“Bad, no. Crazy, yes.” I laugh because the word crazy seems so normal to me.
“Marisol, what happened to you is no joke. You were raped by my best friend and I will never forgive him for that nor have I forgiven myself for leaving you behind. I’m here n
ow to make amends, to do what’s right.”
So he believed me. I breathe a sigh of relief.
“Eighteen years in this institution and not one visitor, Ricardo. I don’t even know if my mother is still alive or my dear friend, Leticia.”
He looks down. “Your mother died a year after you came here and Leticia died shortly after that.”
I purse my lips. Many times I would bang my head on the wall and cry out for both of them. I also missed Isabel dearly. Isabel, the sister I only knew who chose to believe Carlos instead of me. Where was everyone during this time of my life? Why was I all alone? I thought ending my life would be the best solution, but even if I died, nobody would miss me. But then. . . I thought about my daughter and realized what choice did she have? She was probably being raised by her monster father and Isabel. I wondered how her life would be growing up in that mansion, then I thought, perhaps she was better off not knowing about me.
However, as the years went by, I began to wonder about my daughter. Did she look like me? Did she also like to work with her hands? Did she like a boy? I wanted to know more about her. I started working on crafts, creating animals, hearts, and stars from papier maché. I missed weaving so much that I needed to do something with my hands. That’s the only thing that kept me alive and happy. My room was filled with these items, hoping one day I could give it to my daughter. Praying that one day, she could also get to know that I was a girl like her who had hopes and dreams.
The nurses would hear me talking to myself and murmur under their breath thinking I was crazy. I was actually talking to her, telling her about my life before the nightmare happened. I’m a woman now filled with regret.
He eyes my bracelet, the one Isabel gave me―the one I never removed. When they strapped me to the bed while I had outbursts, I made sure they kept my bracelet. My bracelet was untouchable. “Mama died too. Our lives have never been the same ever since this happened.”
I turn to Ricardo with tears in my eyes. “If only, you were there, Ricardo. Where were you when Carlos raped me? Where were you?”
He gives me a tight embrace and rubs my back like how a father would console a child and tell her everything’s going to be fine. I wish to linger in that moment, and I know, like me, Ricardo’s unspoken words only connotes his deep regret. I always thought he would rescue me.
“I’m here now. Isabel needs you. Lotus needs you too.”
Lotus. What a beautiful name.
“Let’s get out of here, Marisol. You don’t belong here. You never did.”
Lotus
The white lights blind me. Where am I? An image of me slashing my wrists flashes through my mind. Shit! Why am I even here? I was supposed to die!
I see tubes all over the place and it dawns on me that I’m at the hospital. Right beside me is my father who is snoring.
I kick the railings of the hospital bed which wakes him up.
He opens his eyes wide. “Lotus. Oh my goodness!” He jumps then presses the button.
A nurse dashes inside the room.
“She’s awake.” He faces me. “You’re awake.”
A doctor comes inside with two more nurses. They remove the tubes and check my vital signs.
My father jumps up and down. “She’s awake.”
I’m trying to process all the information and don’t seem to see my mother anywhere in sight. Where is she?
The doctor examines my pupils and nods his head. “Welcome back, Lotus.”
I want to speak, but my throat is all raspy. The nurse hands me a glass of water.
My father hugs me like he hasn’t seen me in years. “We thought we lost you. I love you.”
That’s the first time he’s ever said that in front of people. He rarely tells me he loves me and when he did, it was always in private. Seeing the dark circles in his eyes makes me sad.
After the doctor and nurses leave, we’re left alone. I feel awkward and don’t know what to say.
“How long was I―”
He cuts me off. “Almost two months.”
Two months and I was like Sleeping Beauty. A raw ache crashes upon me. If I’m Sleeping Beauty then where is my prince? Thoughts of Mr. Florentino linger upon me.
“Where is Mama?”
My father looks away, his eyes are guarded. This is why I tried to kill myself, due to the lack of communication. Why did I have to return? My life was already over without Mr. Florentino.
My father changes the topic and asks. “What are you in the mood for? Pizza? Fried chicken? Chocolate cake? I’m sure you’re craving for something. A hearty meal. The doctor said if your condition is stable we can get you out of here in no time.”
I blink my eyes. I almost died and this had to wake him up to spend time with me. This will probably be the only time I can have a father and daughter bonding. All these years he had me immersed in dancing, gymnastics, piano, ballet, name it . . . when all I craved for was attention from him my parents and wished I could have a friend.
I gave in to pizza, fried chicken, and a large slice of chocolate cake. For a moment I felt like it was my birthday and didn’t bother looking for my mother. My father tries to tell me jokes until I’m too tired to laugh.
***
Papa is still asleep when the nurses and doctor pop in that morning for their early rounds.
“How are you feeling today,” the doctor asks. He’s bright and chirpy.
I smile. “I think I’ve seen enough of you already that I need to go.”
He gives a big laugh. “Looks like your sense of humor is intact. We will get you out of here soon. They just need to observe you for a bit.”
I give him the thumbs up while the nurse takes my blood pressure and examines my vital signs. I’m pretty sure the doctor is happy I came out of this coma. I added to the statistics of patients who survived. I wish there was a happy pill to make me forget what happened between Mr. Florentino and I.
My father rubs his eyes. “Good morning, Sunshine.”
Now I’m his sunshine. I smile.
The doctor faces him. “Have you spoken to your daughter?”
He opens his eyes wide and murmurs. “Um, ah?”
“What’s wrong, Papa?”
The doctor eyes me and smiles. “Very well, I’ll leave you both and check on you later.”
As soon as they exit the room, my heart pounds.
“So, what do you want to eat today?”
My father is trying to bombard me with food and I’m not buying it.
I feel a sharp pain on my belly. “Ouch.”
My mother dashes in. “Oh my God, Lotus, you’re alive.” She runs to my side and hugs me until I can’t breathe. Then she faces my father. “Why didn’t you call me?”
They begin to argue with loud voices forgetting I’m around and don’t seem to acknowledge my excruciating pain.
“Ricardo told me you had a panic attack and needed to rest,” my father raise his voice.
“You know how important this is,” she yells back.
“Can you guys shut up for a moment?”
My mother rubs my shoulders nervously. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Are you okay?”
“MY STOMACH HURTS!” I yell.
They exchange glances and my father rushes outside to call the nurse.
The nurses hurry in and take me in my hospital bed to a smaller room where the doctor preps me for an ultrasound.
My mother kisses me and says everything will be all right.
My legs are spread wide as the doctor sticks a scope inside me. “Doctor, can someone please tell me what’s going on?”
Drawing a big breath, he says. “Lotus, when you were in a coma, we did some tests and discovered you are . . . preg―”
“Pregnant?” I cover my face.
Isabel
I’m su
ch a failure. How could I faint at the psychiatric institution? I couldn’t face Marisol, and I wasn’t there when Lotus woke up. I lost a whole day because of my panic attack. All these days that I spent at the hospital hoping it would be my face Lotus would see when she woke up was wasted. Instead, she saw Carlos, the man I truly despised. And now her stomach is aching and this just sends shivers down my spine, reminding me of what happened when Marisol tried to kill her baby.
When will this all end? This has to end now―today. Lotus will learn the truth and Marisol and I will be free. We will all be free.
I close my eyes and say a prayer. If Lotus learns the truth that her father is a rapist, how will she take it? She’s probably wrestling with the thought of being pregnant. Although I believe in justice for Marisol, but nobody wins in this situation. It’s a dead end.
Carlos approaches me with tears in his eyes. I presume he has read my thoughts. “It seems that we can’t escape the past. It will always come to haunt us.”
“All these years we thought we were protecting Lotus from evil, when the evil lies in us. What are we supposed to do, Carlos? I can’t bear to tell Lotus what you did, but I also can’t stand the thought of leaving her in the dark about her mother. There is no justice for Marisol. You robbed her off her youth―eighteen years of her life.”
He bends his head down in remorse.
“Lotus is going to be a mother, and how is she going to raise that child knowing the dysfunctional background she contains?”
Carlos can’t answer me. There’s no easy way out on this one. I know any moment now, Marisol and Ricardo will be here and I’m afraid how this will all end.
Marisol
The wind brushes through my neck, allowing my hair to flow. Eighteen years tucked away in an asylum was too long. Little did I know, my prince would rescue me. I slip all the papier maché I created for my daughter inside a big box and take one last look at my bedroom―the room I spent half a lifetime in and tears lag down my cheeks. I bid all the nurses and patient’s goodbye―I know I’ll never see them again.
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